


reasons wretched and divine

by dw_fwedewick_heweiden



Series: quirito [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Child Death, Child Murder, Demons, Drowning, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kain is a Bad Person, Murder, Suicide, Thoughts of a serial killer who thinks he's the hero, Unreliable Narrator, i guess?, quirito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-16 21:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19940431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dw_fwedewick_heweiden/pseuds/dw_fwedewick_heweiden
Summary: kain is doing the right thing. he knows it.





	reasons wretched and divine

It was when he’d killed his brother that he realized what he needed to do.

He hadn’t  _ meant _ to kill his brother, of course. Only to make a point to his other, deceitful,  _ traitorous _ brother. To show Abel how wrong he was.

_ Abel.  _ The name was still bitter to him. Five long years and it was still a bitter memory. Of course, Abel was calling himself Alexander now. How pathetic. He could at least own up to his failures, admit he could have stopped it. But he didn’t stop it. And he ran after Kain killed the younger one.

That had been when Belial had come to him.  _ “You will be my Prophet,” _ they had whispered, soft and endearing,  _ “and he will be my  _ **_King._ ** _ ” _

They told him what he needed to do. Who he needed to find.

A Poet, and a Soldier.

The poet had been easy enough. He was too small to struggle. 

Of course he’d made it hurt. There was no point otherwise, it wouldn’t work, and the Poet would be forfeit, everything he’d worked for would be forfeit. He couldn’t have that. He needed the three together. Belial needed the three together.

The Poet could do his job now. He could do what he could not before.

Belial had praised him for that, praised him greatly.  _ “The Poet is dead,” _ they’d whispered, glee in their voice.  _ “You have done well. This will save them.” _

And he had, hadn’t he?

The Soldier was much harder to track down. It took almost a year of constant searching, a dozen mistakes, harder to keep under the radar than before.

But he found the Soldier, eventually. Belial had told him the Soldier’s weakness.

Water.

So he drowned the Soldier, praying this was not another of the dozens of mistaken identities, the dead who weren’t who he thought they were.

It wasn’t. The Soldier was dead. As he should be.

Kain felt pride, after that. After all, he was the Prophet, truly now, he had done what was needed. He had followed orders. Just as he should.  _ “God’s work,” _ Belial had said to him. _ “You’re doing God’s work.” _ And he believed it. Why wouldn’t he?

He had expected that Belial would order his death next. Of course, if the Soldier, Poet, and King had needed to die to reach their potential, would he not need to as well?

_ He didn’t even need the orders, did he? _

They found him dead on the ground the next day, shot through the head in a suicide.

And then his body was gone the day after that.

It didn’t take long for things to go to Hell.

**Author's Note:**

> so uhhh


End file.
